


My Heart Rose To Its Feet

by periwinklepromise



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Episode s08e04: The Last of the Starks, M/M, The Free Folk, The Last of the Giants, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 10:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: Written for the tumblr prompt: "The Wildlings should’ve had folk dances after The Battle of Winterfell to celebrate".





	My Heart Rose To Its Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [camichats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/gifts).



> I told my sister that I would write a Jonmund fic to celebrate her winning the ship war, and then she recently reblogged this post:
> 
> https://beardoftormund.tumblr.com/post/185185060113/ahem (idk op but they said they listened to Would That I for this, so I used a lyric for the title)
> 
> And my sister added the tags "#THIS IS CANON IN MY HEART #IS THERE A FIC ATTACHED #THERE SHOULD BE #I CAN'T WRITE DANCING FOR SHIT IF I HAVE TO DO THIS IT WON'T BE PRETTY" so I figured I'd take pity on her and write it myself.
> 
> To the victors go the spoils.

After the toast to Gendry Baratheon, people began to celebrate. Conversations grew louder, wilder. Folk started to drink, flirt, wrestle. Jon sat upon the table, laughing with the free folk, drinking but not as much as Tormund and Sansa would have him drink. His body felt well and warm, for perhaps the first time since the witch had raised him at Castle Black. They had done it. They had defeated the dead and stopped the Long Night.

He watched the Dragon Queen leave the room, and a weight lifted from his shoulders, swiftly replaced with his lover's heavy arm and tight grip. He hugged the Giantsbane back and took another swig of his drink. Thank the old gods that they had enough ale and wine for a night like this. 

There was a ruckus behind him, and when he turned, one of the spearwives was stood up on a table, with her horn lifted to the ceiling. “ _Ooooh_!” she called out, loud and strong, many nearby falling silent to hear. She pointed her horn to Tormund and shouted out, “I _am_ the _last_ of the _gi_ ants!”

Tormund tossed himself over the table, half knocking Jon over. “My _peo_ ple are _gone_ from the _earth_!” he roared back. Then he tugged on Jon's free hand, pulled him to standing. 

Jon dropped his cup on the table, bit back a curse, and tried to clear his mind. He knew this. He could do this. Probably. “The _last_ of the _great_ mountain gi _ants_!” he bellowed, the wine making his lips feel loose. He grinned at Tormund as the circle began to form. 

Jon had Tormund to his right and one of Tormund's sons to his left. They all joined in the song as they shuffled first right, then left. Tormund and his son kept him standing even as they leapt from one foot to another. Then he had to stand on his own, as he weaved through and linked arms with his fellows, making jokes and laughing at others, and when he came back around to Tormund he realized he hadn't fallen once.

Tormund grinned, and Jon groaned at the thought of what would happen next. “For these _men_ who are _small_ ,” he wrapped thick arms around Jon's waist, “Can _ne_ ver stand _tall_ ,” he lifted Jon up in the air, and Jon gripped at his shoulders as he looked down but he did not feel nerves over this anymore, “Whilst _gi_ ants still _walk_ in the _light_!” and Jon returned to the ground and uncurled to join hands once more.

“ _Ooooh_ , I am the _last_ of the _gi_ ants,” the free folk all called as one as they spun and stomped their feet, “so learn _well_ the _words_ of my _song_. For when I am _gone_ , the singing will _fade_ , and the _si_ lence shall last _long_ and _long_!”

They all whooped and cheered then, because they were not gone, they were still _here_ , and there were songs to sing, and no such silence to be had.

*

Quiet as a shadow, Arya slunk back down the hall to practice her archery, not one for revelry, but she had a small smile on her face all the same. _There_ was something she had not known about her brother.


End file.
